LIFE STRUGGLES,

CHAPTER I.

FIRST STRUGGLES TO LIVE.

HIS BIRTHPLACE.

THOSE who have listened to Mr Hillocks' lecture on "Scotland and the Scotch," have learned that he is a Scotchman, and that he loves his native land. He was born in Dundee.

This busy town has now become a fashionable centre in the north; but there were in it some queer primitive places, with ancient manners, such, for instance, as in the Blackscroft, which may be called our Alsatia, only without its special wickedness, where a flight of stairs conducts you from the main street into the centre of the eighteenth century—so much did the thatched cottages and homely antique habitudes of the people differ from those of their neighbours. Another of these spots-which at the time of his birth was a quiet region-is the Bonnethill. It is separated from the bustling quarters of the town by a long and very steep brae, after climbing which, if fat and pursy, like Hamlet,

"With labour dire, and weary woe,"

you found yourself in a very peculiar locality, tenanted chiefly by handloom weavers, a race that has all but disappeared.

It was in one of such tenements where the humble parents of our friend lived and laboured, and where he was born on the morning of the 7th of April, but we are not certain as to the exact year.

Speaking of that event, he says, "Of astrology, I know nothing save that it is defined as the pretended science of foretelling the fate of man by the star under which he is born, or the month in which he saw the light. But I have often thought that April was a somewhat fitting symbol of what followed. As everybody knows, April is noted for being fickle. During its stay with us, we may have a lovely and sunshiny day, but the very next one may be rough and rainy, with blasts almost wintry. Now, we may have a delightful view-the smiling sunbeams dancing on the bright green of the fresh leaves and the opening flowers; then, of a sudden, the whole of this beauty is obscured by dark and frowning clouds. Now an agreeable warmth, as on a beautiful summer morning; then an unpleasant chill as on a wet winter night.

"If I have not had all the sunshine of an April, I have had very many of its chilling blasts, and these at the very commencement of my life."

HIS PARENTAGE.

To his parentage, Mr Hillocks thus pays an affectionate tribute. "I leave," he says, "the tracing of pedigrees to those who plume themselves on the title, the rank, or the wealth of their ancestry. With me,

"The pith o' sense, the pride o' worth

Are higher far than a' that.'

I may, however, remark that my parents belonged to the real working classes-those who cheerfully work for their bread, and live to be useful.

"Of my mother, I can only speak from hearsay, but her love and purity are the more valuable to me that I have not known their decay. To this day they are as unsullied as when first I heard of them from the lips of those who had known her from infancy till she departed for Paradise.

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"My father, too, was worthy of my mother, and that is saying much, not too much. When a mere boy he became an apprentice sailor, and was afterwards 'pressed' into 'His Majesty's Service.' At the peace,' in 1815, he was 'paid off'-the best of his days-his robust health and remarkable strength-having passed away while with others rendering our grim bulwarks terrible. I may be wrong, yet I have often thought that he was shamefully treated, considering what he did for the nation. Ever since I was able to reflect, it has stung me to the heart to think that a man so noble and brave should have been so cruelly neglected. He, however, like all real men, made the best of his fate.

fifteen years, he, on

"After ploughing the deep for full returning home, betook himself to the loom as a means of living. Even yet, I think I see him at that weary loom, brave as ever, the peculiar clink of the rapid shuttle keeping time to the simple notes of a sea-ditty. When he was not so racked by pain, as he often was—when poverty had not appeared in the more hideous forms which it often assumed-he was cheerful. It was truly touching to see him during these brief intervals from dire distress, and to hear him, while weaving, singing with considerable emotion—

'All in the Downs our fleet lay moored.'

Though he suffered long, he retained the heroic spirit of the real British Tar to the last-deeply imbued with a love of right and truth. He was a patriot in the true sense of the term. It was the impulse of a genuine patriotism that gave energy to him as one of the thousands of those guards, who so

nobly defended our little 'Isle of the sea;' and though he was left to suffer the pains and penalties of honest poverty, he did not forget to instil into our young minds that heart-felt love of country which inspires the soul, leads to the defence of truth, the gaining of right, and the maintaining of freedom."

HIS FIRST MISFORTUNE.

With considerable force and feeling, he thus refers to what he calls his first misfortune,-the loss of his mother. "I am told that for a few days matters went on favourably, and my parents were led to rejoice` and to foster their fondest hopes. But soon their joys gave way to sorrow, for shortly mournful wailings took the place of the bright prospects. My mother became seriously ill, and died on the twenty-first day after I was born."

Who can tell the amount of sadness contained in the latter part of that brief statement? To the busy world around, this was but a casual event, yet its effects were severely felt by all concerned, especially this motherless child. The loss of a mother in youth becomes a most important circumstance in the history of the life of struggle. The loss of the father is truly painful, but the fatherless may be strengthened by that energy, which Forster describes as desertion ministering to the manly. and courageous, like the ivy which he saw, when the support of the oak was withdrawn, asserted its independence, and shot out into a bold elastic stem. A father dies, and the protection of his roof is withdrawn; but that might have been a shelter to indolence. The fatherless boy is compelled to go out into the world, and as all retreat is cut off behind him, he is thrown on his own resources, and his powers, as if inspired by the spirit of his departed sire, develop rapidly into maturity, and his energies enable him to surmount difficulty and attain heights at which he himself is astonished. But the death

of a mother takes away an important shield in the battle of life, and the motherless combatant, if weak, may at times be defeated. At all events, the ills of life are likely to fall fast around him as our friend soon found.

As a matter of course, he was put under a wet nurse. But she treated him very cruelly for nearly two years. Speaking from what he had afterwards heard from those who knew him in his infancy, he says,-" Her wilful neglect and rash drugging made me a weaker child than I was when my mother died. This paved the way for numerous diseases, which followed each other in rapid succession, weakening my constitution, and stunting my growth."

PRESSED INTO SERVICE.

At the end of these two years of bad treatment, the lad and his sister were taken home to their stepmother-the sailorweaver having married again. And, under the new regime, he made such progress that when about three years of age he began to walk. But soon after this, and long before he was at all able, the poor child was pressed into service, becoming a winder even before he could reach the spokes of the wheel, the feet of which had to be cut shorter that he might be able to drive it. Here he sat working hard, the wonder of many a visitor, he being so young and so little. Not much sleep, nor much food, and less pure air; no play to cheer him, nor healthy out-door exercise to strengthen his weak limbs, he suffered much. Well might he afterwards exclaim—“ Who can know a tenth of the heart-breaking sufferings which must be endured by the sons and daughters of the poor?" To this important question, he replies-"None save those who have been so unfortunate as to know them by sad experience. Their misery is great even when their parents are guided by worldly 'prudence, supported by fortitude, and cheered by

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